


Sideline Kisses

by lookingforatardis



Category: Actor RPF, Call Me By Your Name (2017) RPF
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Series of One Shots, Stolen Kisses, This is as pure as it gets kids
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-03
Updated: 2018-01-06
Packaged: 2019-02-27 16:09:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,306
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13251810
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lookingforatardis/pseuds/lookingforatardis
Summary: OG Idea: Kisses when the camera isn't rolling. Random little drabbles of charmie kisses because even I like fluff sometimes :)





	1. Chapter 1

 "I'm kind of nervous," Timmy admits, a shy smile on his face. Armie turns towards him, face twisted in amusement.

"Seriously?" Timmy shrugs, leaning down to grab a rock and rolling it between his fingers, tossing it out across the field with a sigh. "We've practiced this scene like, a dozen times," Armie laughs.

"I _know_ , I didn't say I knew _why_ I was nervous, just that I am," Timmy says, rolling his eyes and nudging Armie playfully. "I can't help it. It's weird, like it's real now, you know? What if it's not like before? What if Luca looks at us and is like, what the hell was that?" Timmy glances up at Armie to gage his reaction. He just looks fond, though.

"Listen, it's going to be fine. Better than fine, actually. There is _no way_ we can mess this up, trust me. We have the chemistry to carry the scene, you don't have to worry," Armie says, putting a hand on Timmy's shoulder. They were off to the side of set, hanging out while Luca organized everyone and everything for the first kiss scene. Timmy watches him for a second, admiring how everyone looked to him for guidance. He sighs; it seems he's the only one on the entire set with nerves. Armie lets his hand slip down Timmy's arm to hold his hand, causing him to look up. Slightly embarrassed, unsure of exactly why, Timmy leans into Armie's shoulder. Armie smiles against his hair, bringing his hands up to cup his face. He leans in and places a chaste kiss against his lips, resting his forehead against Timmy's. "We got this," he says, stroking Timmy's cheek gently.

Timmy nods, looping his arms around Armie's waist. He leans up and kisses him again, lingering for a moment, taking comfort in the slow smile he can feel forming on Armie's lips. "Better?" Armie breathes.

"Mmm." Timmy feels the anxiety drain from his body and he rests his head against Armie's chest. "Yes."

"Good," Armie laughs, stroking Timmy's back. The two stand in each other's embrace for a few minutes, Armie smiling as Timmy hums the piano piece he played the other day absentmindedly. He pulls back and presses another kiss to his lips, silencing the humming and eliciting a soft sigh instead.

Luca watches from the sides, already set for the scene but afraid to split the two apart just yet. He waits until they part, smiling fondly as the two laugh at something he missed. Timmy runs his hands through his hair and Armie smiles, chasing Timmy's hands with his own. Luca worries sometimes about this, the intimacy that happened so suddenly. Ever since filming started, they had been acting like two friends who laughed and joked around all day. It very quickly changed, though, into something much more. He had seen them start leaning on each other more and wondered if it was on purpose or a subconscious movement to be closer. As the days went on, these little moments began happening off set at dinner or at the house. He wasn't entirely sure what to make of it, but he knew something was there that transcended friendship, that perhaps transcended even a romantic relationship.

He hears Armie's bright laughter and sees Timmy loop his arms around his neck, kissing him playfully before pushing away with a smile. The two stared at each other. "Luca?" Michael asks. "We have to separate them," he says.

"I know," Luca says almost wistfully. He looks at Michael and they share a knowing look. Luca wasn't sure anyone else other than himself and Michael had really noticed all the glances and touches.

"Alright boys, it's time," Luca calls out, motioning for them to come over. Their arms brush as they walk, small smiles still on their faces. Timmy sneaks glances at Armie as they walk over.

After they film, Luca let's everyone have a break for lunch. The two men lay in the grass a little longer, talking and laughing to make the moment last. Luca brings them sandwiches after a while, knowing their time is limited. He felt partially responsible for this intimacy brewing. As he walked away from them, listening to Timmy talking animatedly, he knew he would continue to bring them sandwiches if this was how they wanted to spend their lunches. He wanted to allow them every moment they desired during their brief summer in Italy before it slipped away and fall set in.


	2. I Don't Want To Leave

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I was so deep into my pity party that his presence had shaken me—almost as if he’d awoken me from it—until these words formed in my head and I couldn’t stop them from repeating over and over again. I look down at his hands now, craving him closer still. "I don't want to leave," I whisper. 
> 
> Armie is emotional about the end of filming and Timmy comforts him on a balcony. This is a fair bit more angsty than the last chapter, but it still fits the sideline kisses theme so....

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I literally have been trying to write Armie's pov for two days and FAILING because he's so freaking hard to write correctly, you guys, it's so difficult. I woke up this morning with the first paragraph flowing through my mind and scrambled for my laptop, not even grabbing my glasses until I had those words typed so I wouldn't forget. I've been thinking about Armie a lot lately and how complex he is as a person, how little we truly understand about him. There's a lot of depth to his mind that we catch glimpses of but never the full picture. Hopefully this does his mind justice.
> 
> I don't own these people, and to be honest, I'm glad. They're handfuls lmfao

I stare out over the town from the balcony, the thought somewhere in the back of my mind that Oliver did this as well when his heart feared what mine does now. _He_ comes up behind me, quiet and careful, and wraps his arms around my waist. My eyes slip shut, the comfort overwhelming as he presses his lips against my spine before letting out a deep sigh against me. His thumb moves soothingly against my abdomen and I try not to be overcome by the moment, yet try to hold onto it with the force of a thousand lives I feel I have lived these past few months. I place a hand over both his and allow my breath to stutter as it enters my lungs, the vulnerability commonplace now. I feel his head turn, him snuggle closer, his heart steady unlike my thoughts. It was over.

Everything was slipping away faster than I could handle and when Liz called earlier, I snapped. I'd begun yelling to no one in particular, just frustrated by the inescapable truth that I was going to have to leave and there was nothing I could do about it. He'd heard from his apartment, I supposed. I hadn't let him in, he must have used his key. I'd wandered off to stare at Luca's house by that time, by the time he found me. I was so deep into my pity party that his presence had shaken me—almost as if he’d awoken me from it—until these words formed in my head and I couldn’t stop them from repeating over and over again. I look down at his hands now, craving him closer still. " _I don't want to leave_ ," I whisper, emotion deluged every syllable, a touch of anxiety rising in my chest with the confession; not that he isn't already aware of the truthfulness. He pulls me closer to him, his arms tightening. A part of me wondered if I'd develop lines on my face from these last few days—for all the times I'd walked around with an almost permanent furrowed brow, for the lack of laughter. It would suit me well—a reminder, a marker of the fleeting summer I hoped would still be vivid fifty years from now.

He holds me for a while, though how long I'm not sure. Long enough for my breathing to settle, for all the lights in Luca's home to turn off, for the moon to grow higher in the sky. I feel him shift, his arms lifting upwards so his hands can rest on my chest. Another kiss against my back. He lingers this time, resting his forehead against me. It reminds me of all the times he'd lean against my chest for comfort. It’s innocent and subtle, a gentle reminder that there is love I do not comprehend in this world. I'd been in love so many times, just free falling. I loved Liz, I loved Harper and was sure I'd love the next kid just as much, and I thought those were the strongest bonds a person could have. To an extent, they were, absolutely; I’d never love another the way I loved them. This moment paled in comparison to my daughter's birth- just as I was sure it would pale next to my son's- but it was _so_ different and impossible to compare. This thing with Italy, with Luca, with _Timmy_ —it was esoteric and dynamic and utterly, indescribably, perfect. I wasn't sure how I'd lucked out and got here, I knew I sure as hell didn't deserve it. I would never stop thinking of this summer, of the feeling of his arms around me, both physically and emotionally.

"It's going to be okay," he says, pressing his lips against me again. I want to believe him. I want to believe that in the months to come when I don't see them, I'll be okay. I want to believe that someone will look at me the way Luca does when I start building my walls up, in that _what the hell do you think you're doing_ way. I want to believe that the moment we laid in bed naked and laughed until our sides hurt, the crew completely accustomed to the intimacy around us—I want to believe _that_ won't slip away. I want to believe all this, though I cannot help but fear the worst. "I promise, it'll be okay," he says again, trying to reiterate it until it dissuades me from a downward spiral at the thought of losing this place with him and this film.

I turn in his arms, finding a smile so gentle and candid that it both breaks and mends me. He moves so his hands can frame my face, his fingertips memorizing me. I know he's just as devastated as I am when he traces my lips, his face twisting. He leans up and presses his mouth to mine, unleashing some form of vulnerability in my heart that I desperately wanted him to see before it was gone. I begin crying, tasting the saltwater tears as they mixed with our kiss, not caring that he could taste them too as I wrapped my arms around him and kissed him harder. I needed this moment to be imprinted on every second of my life. Every sigh of this existence needed Timmy's gently hands and loving words, his innocence and understanding, his lips and his eyes. I kiss him until I can breathe again, my face red and blotchy by the time we part, though his is as well. The realization settles on my with a small, broken smile, that the taste of tears on my tongue was caused by not just my own, but his as well. "I love you," his says; his voice is drifting away from me and I want so badly to bottle it for the future. I touch his jaw, remembering all the times I'd held him when we kissed as Elio and Oliver. Now, his hands framing my face, my left hand resting on his jaw while my right felt his heart beat out a rhythm I could dance to, I feel at home in a way I never did as Oliver. I lean my forehead against his and swallow hard.

"I love you, too," I say, knowing those words will never be capable of encompassing everything I actually feel. This transcended any sort of romantic love I'd ever experienced, and I wondered if that was even the best way to describe it at all. It was something else entirely, something the English language simply didn't accommodate for in its conception. I remember reading Homer a few weeks ago as Timmy practiced piano one night. I asked him about it, wondering if he understood the dynamic of the characters, of the motivators. He told me it was something about variations of love, he couldn't quite remember from his literature class. I looked it up then and found the Greeks had all these words for describing love, understanding that four letters was nowhere near enough to encapsulate the complexities of the heart. _Philia_ , I remembered now, was a far better word to describe what I felt for him, though it had to be mixed in meaning with _agape_ to truly begin to describe this feeling. He was more than four letters—he was a constant in my heart, his arms a sort of Elysium that wrapped both of us up in something stronger than words. I wanted to never leave his embrace, to never walk away from the acceptance I had grown to adopt this summer.

 _Know thyself_ , the words always a foreign concept to me until this film and these people altered my perception of reality and pushed me towards the mirror of souls, forcing me to look on and _know myself._ I knew our time was limited, I knew filming ended in less than a week. I could sense the finality creeping up, but knew that for tonight I had time. _Tonight_ , I could be here in Crema with Timmy and Luca across the street and Michael down the hall. I could be here for the hours cloaked in darkness and not think of the tomorrow soon approaching where this will all be memories. I kiss him, pressing our lips together, letting him part mine as he sees fit to let go of all the moments we'll never have. This is the moment we get, so I take it. I take it as my fingers dig into his hair, his lips leaving mine to press against my cheek, my jaw, the base of my throat. I take it as his fingers snake under my shirt and grasp the skin at my back. I take it the moment when I press him into the balcony wall, when I allow the sigh to escape as his teeth tug at my lower lip. I hold onto the moment until we are holding one another in bed, his fingers tracing invisible circles on my arms. I hold on until our tears dry and the sun rises and all that remains is a love for one another that not even the Greeks would understand and know, finally, that thing really would be okay as long as he was by my side.

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on tumblr :) Love you guys! Request a kiss if you want!


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